Gut Instinct
by myguyssamanddean
Summary: Sam has a dream in which he sees Dean lying bloody and injured. He sets out to find him. Feedback is wonderful.


Sam was dreaming with Jess curled up beside him. It wasn't the kind of dream that he'd remember, it didn't make sense, it just rolled along.

BAM! Sam was hit with a picture of Dean lying somewhere, broken and bloody.

Sam jolted upright, nearly tossing Jess off the bed. He was sweaty and his heart was racing.

"Sam?" Jess looked at him sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. "Go back to sleep. I'm going to watch some television for awhile."

"Okay. I love you," she snuggled back into her pillow.

"Love you, too," he kissed her temple and got out of bed.

He turned on the television to whatever infomercial was playing while he stared at his phone. He hadn't heard from Dean for over a year. What if this was just a bad dream? Then again, what if it wasn't?

It had felt so real.

Sam thought back, trying to place the memory of Dean being hurt like that. He couldn't.

The gnawing in his gut wouldn't go away.

He pushed 'send' and wondered what he could use for an excuse for calling in the middle of the night. Sam heard Dean's phone pick up. He heard labored breathing.

"Dean, are you okay?"

There was a long pause before he heard Dean say, "Sammy."

"Where are you?"

No response. He wouldn't get one. The phone had cut out and went right to voicemail when he tried calling back.

He tried Bobby's house phone next.

"This better be damn important," his gruff voice was comforting to Sam.

"Bobby, do you know where Dean is?"

"Sam?"

"I tried calling Dean and he's hurt. Do you know where he was going?"

"No."

"Have you checked your messages lately?"

"Cell phone's charging. Just a minute. I'll go check."

Sam heard Bobby lay the phone down and leave the room. He watched the clock in the kitchen tick the seconds by as he waited for Bobby to come back.

"Sam! He was in Nevada when a werewolf caught him by surprise. He left me a message that he was driving straight through to me at the scrap yard."

"He told me the interstate he was taking. Can you get your hands on a map and a car?"

"Yeah," Sam's mind was already whirling. "I'll get packed and call you on your cell. We can determine routes to take then."

"Sure, Sam."

Sam hadn't given Jess much of an explanation as to why he needed to borrow her car for an unknown period of time or where he was going. He just told her that he'd call her from the road and explain it better when he got back. She was so trusting, she just kissed him and told him to drive careful.

Bobby and Sam coordinated their travel. Sam had picked up the most basic of first aid supplies at a store. It was really wimpy compared to what Bobby would be bringing.

"I found the dead werewolf," Sam called Bobby. "Dean didn't burn it. I don't see the Impala around. I'll look a little more and then keep coming your way."

"Cover the werewolf with branches and then come. That way at least it will be hidden somewhat."

Sam searched for the Impala and all he found was skid marks from where Dean took off. He never would have left rubber behind unless he's known he was really hurt.

Sam sped down the road, knowing Bobby was doing the same. He scanned the road and shoulders, thinking Dean might have pulled off somewhere. He slammed on the brakes when he saw the taillights of the Impala sticking up out of a ditch.

"Bobby, I found the Impala, it's just after mile marker 4 in the ditch."

Bobby said a million prayers while he waited for Sam to continue.

"He's alive, Bobby. Cut up bad, but alive. I'm going to get him to the nearest motel and call you when I have him patched up."

"I'm tearing up the road coming your direction," Bobby told him. "I'll be there, Sam."

Sam laid Dean out on the bed and cut his shirt off. He washed the wounds out and stitched the ones that needed it with a regular needle instead of what they usually used. The supplies that Sam had picked up weren't as absorbent as what he was used to. It just frustrated Sam more.

Dean's injures were confined to his chest and left arm. When Sam slid Dean's jeans off, he saw Dean's knee that was three times its usual size and an multitude of colors. Sam put an ice pack on it and a pillow underneath.

Bobby knew the motel Sam was calling from. He also knew someone who could look at Dean's knee in that area. He made some calls and then informed Sam that a hunter/doctor would be coming to check out Dean's knee and give whatever support they needed until Bobby got there. If there was something hunters were good for, it was looking out for each other.

A man barely older than Dean arrived with a doctor's bag and Sam just stepped aside. He answered questions but mostly listened. Instead of leaving scripts for medication for them, he'd brought the actual medications themselves. He gave Dean a shot of antibiotics and pain killer after he'd been able to rouse him to consciousness, even if it was just to ask who the hell the doctor was.

The doctor wouldn't take any payment, said he might need their help sometime. He also said he'd call Bobby and give him an update so Sam could just tend to Dean.

"He was a nice guy, Dean. Even brought pain killers. You must be feeling pretty good by now."

"How was my baby?"

"What?"

"We went off the road. How bad is she?"

"Dean, I don't have a clue how bad the Impala is. My only concern was getting you out of it."

After a pause, Sam asked, "Why weren't you and Dad hunting together?"

"Couldn't stand to be in the same room with each other after you were gone. I've been on my own for awhile now."

"Don't you meet up every now and then."

"As seldom as possible. We communicate through Bobby for the most part."

Sam nodded. After all, his second call had been to Bobby not his dad.

Bobby came screeching into the parking lot. Sam had the door open before he could knock. After Bobby gave Dean the once over and told Sam what a good job he'd done, he told Sam that he could take care of Dean from here. He'd get both Dean and the Impala back to the scrap yard until they healed.

Sam felt like he was being dismissed.

"Aren't you missing classes?" Dean asked. "I might need someplace to hide out so I'm planning on you being extremely successful and having a huge house where I can come visit."

"You could visit at my apartment, Dean. You were so close to California and yet you called Bobby in South Dakota for help. Why not call me?" Sam couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice.

"You're out of hunting and into school, Sam. Have you forgotten how often we get injured? It was just second nature to call Bobby."

"We're family, Dean. You need to call me, too."

"Phone works two ways."

"Okay. Let's call once a week just so we know what the other is up to. And I meant that about visiting, by the way."

"I might have to stop by and check out college life. Thanks for coming Sam. How did you know to call me?"

"I had a bad dream. The awful feeling wouldn't go away. So, I called."

"You're damn lucky he did, too," Bobby told Dean. "My cell had gone dead and I wouldn't have checked it until much later if Sam hadn't called me."

"You had a bad dream?" Dean asked. "That an a bad feeling was all it took for you to act on it?"

"Yeah. You're my brother. Why? Do you think that's weird?"

Dean shrugged.

"Considering how close you were growing up, it don't surprise me none. You ever get another dream like that, Sam, act on it. Don't even second guess yourself."

Sam gave each of them a hug before he left with Bobby promising to call him with updates. On the long drive back to school, Sam started to wonder how he could explain a brother that he'd never mentioned to a gal whose backseat of her car now had bloodstains on it.

At least he had many miles to figure something out.


End file.
